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User blog:Danixcalifornia/Regrets and Reflections
DISCLAIMER: yet another Riarkle-inspired Drabble following the last. I just can't seem to get enough of this ship. They continue to be the ship by which I pull the most inspiration from. Anyways, the same rules apply as before: this is an AU based on my personal interpretation of the ship rather than any canonical storytelling. It is not my intentions to demean or dismiss Smarkle or Rucas. I understand how much those ships mean to so many of you. I hope you understand that how I write Riarkle is not a slight to them. This is simply my vision of Riarkle set in a different time under different circumstances. POV: Farkle Minkus It isn’t until he has trekked back to the security of his home and nestled under the warmth of his comforter that his thoughts are awash with regret. Why? Why did he run? All he’d ever wanted was to hear her say those words. Now he’d blown it and he doesn’t know how he can ever even face her again. After some deliberation, and before he can stop himself, his fingers are shakily dialling her number. He’s so nervous his fingers slip more than once. Finally, with one last burst of adrenaline his finger pounds on the call button and he waits with bated breath as the phone begins to ring. He counts the number of rings in his head before he grows anxious with worry. One, two, three, four, why isn’t she picking up? His stomach lurches at the possibility of her intentionally screening his call. He’s greeted by her bubbly voice after the sixth ring, but it’s only her voicemail message. Still, it’s enough to send his heart into a fluttering frenzy. Before he can fully comprehend what he’s doing, he’s fervently pouring his heart out over the phone barely taking time to take breaths in between sentences, other times pausing for a good while to keep from choking up. The words come out like vomit and once he gets started he can’t stop himself. Finally, he ends the message feeling that a great weight has been lifted. He’s proud of himself and anxious for her to hear it until the operator gives him the option to replay the message. He chooses to replay it and it’s only then that he realises the weight of what he’s just done. He grimaces painfully as his hoarse voice blathers the heartsick message back in his ear. “Hey Riley, it’s…me. I just want you to know that I’m sorry I left like that. I am surprised at even myself for my cowardice. It’s just…you unloaded this huge volume of information that I had no idea to do with at the time.” Here he pauses mid-rant. Honestly, where is he going with this? All of this is completely off-script from the many speeches he’d mentally prepared in the past. He thinks about what he really wants to say for a beat, and then continues, “I’m a scientist. I believe only in things that are proven by science and view everything through a scientific lens. Come to think of it, it is probably why heartfelt speeches is not normally my strongest suit”, he pauses thoughtfully before continuing, “As you know, science is rooted in data, statistics, figures, objectivity -but as it happens all of that somehow becomes obsolete to me when I’m with you. You see, I know that quintessentially we don’t fit. You’re an optimistic dreamer and I’m a pragmatic scientist. But for reasons that escape my scientific leanings, I really don’t care because you make me feel things that go beyond science, Riley Matthews. Things that cannot be explained in a textbook. It transcends everything I’ve ever been taught and it scares, confuses, and enraptures me all at once. You’ve taught me that science isn’t stronger than feelings, especially love. And there’s no concept to me more jarring or terrifying, which is why I ran. But what I didn’t tell you is there’s also no other word that can accurately describe what I feel for you. I love you. There has never been a single day that I haven’t been in love with you. I know that from a scientific perspective, we don’t make sense. Statistically, a relationship between people as different as us is pretty improbable. As a scientist, I am not inclined to make quantum leaps of faith, but you have made a dreamer out of this pragmatic scientist; so if there’s even just one percent of a chance for a future with you, I’m willing to test that hypothesis.” At this point in the recording he’s beet red and it’s construable in his voice. He’s stammering, his normally levelled voice is shaken with emotion, but he continues on. “I’m not the gallant and dashing prince that you’ve always dreamed of. It’s not who I am. And I’ve come to terms with that we can’t all be Lucas Friars. But what I will be, if you let me, is your astronaut. I’ll give you the moon and stars. I’d pluck Pluto straight out of the sky to give to you.” he pauses for a brief beat as his scientific sensibility overtakes his lovesick rambling. “Okay, not literally - that’s impossible - but in the most metaphorical sense because there’s nothing within the realm of scientific possibility that I wouldn’t do for you. I don’t know if we could withstand the odds, but what I do know without question, without doubt, without scientific dispute is that I will always love you.” The jarring voice of the operator brings him out of his reverie of shame and embarrassment. “I sound like a raving idiot. Is this yet another side effect of love?” “Press nine to delete this message” she offers and without a second hesitation he pounds the 9 key. “Message deleted” the operator proclaims simply and he’s not sure whether he feels regret or relief. Suddenly his phone screen illuminates the dark room with her picture visible as ever from his bedside table. A string of rather uncharacteristic cuss words escape his mouth as he stares in horror at his phone now vibrating menacingly. It rings for a little while longer until it eventually stops. With a heavy heart, he welcomes the sleep that allows him the temporary escape he needs. One day, he will have the courage to tell her how he feels, but tonight is not one of them. “There’s always another day,” the pragmatic scientist reasons. Category:Blog posts